


Week Three - Travel

by Trojie



Series: Trojie's Pornathon 2017 [3]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-17 23:05:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11861502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trojie/pseuds/Trojie
Summary: Merlin finally finds Arthur again.





	Week Three - Travel

**Author's Note:**

> For Pornathon!

They say the longest journey begins with a single step.

It ends with one too. 

This one's hard to take.

Merlin looks down at his feet on the Welcome mat, and his hand raised at the door, and he's been waiting hundreds of years and walked hundreds of miles for this, his feet are blistered and sore and he's tired, so tired, and for some reason he's not knocking. 

The house is very grand. This is long past the age of servants and servants entrances round the back, but Merlin nevertheless has a sudden frisson of doubt that he should even be knocking at _this_ door. He bites his lip. 

_Stop it, idiot. Knock and be damned._

There's a long pause after he does it. He worries. He waits. 

Sudden, thundering footsteps. 

The door's opened in a swirl of bluster - and then everything freezes.

'Wh -' is as far as Arthur gets, and then Merlin's looking up at him from the difference that one step makes in their heights, and Arthur's looking down, and was his hair always so golden? Were his eyes always so blue? Merlin knows they were and yet it's like he's seeing them for the first time. 

Then he's in Arthur's arms, and this is so familiar it's like they were never apart. 

Like breathing, up against Arthur's hallway wall, not one foot from the now-shut front door, and Arthur's kissing him, hitching Merlin's legs up to tighten around Arthur's waist, grinding in and panting and like he's trying to occupy the same space as Merlin in every dimension. 

Merlin's head is swimming. He's tried every drug he could get his hands on, went everywhere he could find to sample every way of forgetting he heard tell of - none of them felt like this. His breath won't come right, his eyes won't focus, his cock is hard, painful, perfect in his trousers and Arthur's answering hardness is rubbing against him with only fabric for a spacer, fabric and sweat and god. 

Arthur bites. Merlin claws at him. They're a Venn diagram that's a perfect circle and yes there's a way that Arthur could sink into him, body-within-body, but that takes too long and leaves too much empty space between them, and right now Merlin thinks the combination of not enough and too much that fucking would be might kill him, finally, the last straw after all these years, this fourth dimension he has to wait along. 

His fingernails sink into Arthur's shoulders through his shirt. Arthur raises blood in welts of blue to the skin of Merlin's throat. 

It's over in maybe two minutes, two hot, wet, desperate minutes, as Merlin's body takes that final step and he shakes apart, Arthur thudding against him, fucking desperately against him where he's twisting and crying out and coming like a hurricane. 

They slide to the floor together. 

Merlin's shoes, still on his feet, are still on the mat.


End file.
